Finding my voice

In Primary school, I had a teacher called Mrs McGill.  She always wore a high necked frilly blouse with a brooch pinned at her clavicle.

Mrs McGill had a very scratchy voice that sounded like the noise broken glass would make if it could speak.  It was more of a croak and my young mind thought this was because the pin from the brooch had pierced through her blouse and got stuck in her neck.

I went to my drawing class today.  The tutor also has a scratchy voice but does not wear a brooch.  She has a vocal disability which means that her voice is barely above a whisper and it is a struggle for her to speak.  However, because she’s good and worth listening to, there is absolute silence in the room when she does talk.  Last week, she asked me if I could be her voice and call the class to attention which I did with an authoritative “Oi!!” to all.  I felt privileged, as if I’d just been given the honour of prefect (which I sadly missed out on at school because I wasn’t good enough).

We worked with charcoal again today and were warned it was going to be messy so I wore my funeral attire.  The theme was contrast and tone and our main piece was to draw our outerwear – coats, scarves, bags etc. – casually draped over a chair.  I meant to draw my coat and bag, but by the time I’d finished sketching my coat, it filled the page so I had no room for my bag.  Shame really, as it was my best handbag.

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About sallybennett

I live, work and daydream in the UK.

2 responses to “Finding my voice

  1. Lovely picture, Sally. I wish I could go back to school and try to be good at the things that interest me now! I’ll be reading your blog.

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